Can Opened
by SabriSonne
Summary: Tag for 1x07 - "Can Opener": El Noche has Macgyver in his hands, having a great time getting "his guest" to talk with him. On the other hand, the Phoenix Team doesn't know where to start looking...
1. Chapter 1

"I'm coming back when he's feeling more talkative."

Mac wasn't even sure he got this right when the mask was shoved on his face again. This time he was still struggling with his previous taste of nitrogen, so holding his breath never had been an option. So this time he got the full dose.

Mac felt the nitrogen conquering his way of breathing, his lung, his body, his brain. He tried to buck away, but he felt a strong hand gripping his hair harsh. His head was kept in position as it was pressed on the soft back rest of the chair he was sitting in. His taped hands began to tremble, gripping the wooden arm rest again and again in despair freeing himself.

His lung cried for oxygen.

He tried once again to shake the mask off, but the grip in his hair was like iron. With clenched shut eyes he desperately tried to fill his lungs with something to breath, but it was still the freaking nitrogen. He started to cough violently.

El Noche was right, it kind of feels like drowning if you inhale pure nitrogen. Mac's body was breathing, and something even entered his lungs, but his body couldn't use what's there. He jerked. Dots began to dance in his head, his breaths became nothing more than short gasps.

_Jack, where are you?_

After what felt like hours, his torturer pulled the mask away. It had only been a few breaths of nitrogen, four maybe, but Mac was literally down. If the man wouldn't have grabbed his blond hair, Mac would have slipped off the chair.

With glassy eyes he stared to the ceiling, recognizing the cracks up there, but his brain couldn't understand a bit of what he was seeing right now. He just gasped for breath. But there was still too much nitrogen left in his lungs to get the lifesaving oxygen in there.

_Jack, where are you?_

His captivator came in sight of Mac's vision. Everything was still blurry, his eyes unable to focus on anything. The man eyed him, and then an ugly smile formed in his face.

Before Mac could draw in a new breath of air, he felt the mask pressed down again. And this time it was done so hard, it actually hurt.

Mac felt like the man was trying to rip the mask right through his flesh inside Mac's lung. The pressure was immense. It was so immense, Mac couldn't even breath. It felt like someone was handgagging him in a harsh way.

The man noticed and jerked Mac's head upright and back by his hair. A wave of pain exploded in his head as Mac hissed. Immediately nitrogen filled his lungs, again the feeling of drowning. And this time Mac was drowning in unconsciousness as the mask was not removed again.

* * *

"What?!"

Jack was furious as he approached Riley. His hands came up to his short hair and running through them.

"You had like what – half a day of time, and still didn't find a trace of Mac?!"

"Don't give me that!", Riley yelled at him, "I tried all night to find him!"

Jack sighed and turned away from her. Of course she did. Of course the whole night. Jack knew. He knew the hard work Riley is up with, hearing her fingers on the keyboard of her laptop, the speed was amazing. Jack knew all this. But it was not enough. Not enough for him – not enough for Mac.

"Sorry."

His voice was down a little. He knew, Riley was as worried as him.

Mac has been gone for like 8 hours. 8 hours ago Jack lost track of his buddy, only left behind with a few fresh tire tracks on the wet forest ground. Riley had run her analysis, but wasn't able to pinpoint a car. Or she was – problem was, it was a car like half of the Americans are driving these days.

"Calm yourself, Jack." Patty came in the room, "We are as desperate as you to find MacGyver. And the faster the better."

Jack swallowed hard. He still hadn't turned to the women again and was happy he hadn't. Otherwise the would have seen his face going pale as a ghost. Jack looked up at the big screen, hands again in his hair, scrubbing his head. Desperation in his eyes visible he searched for hints on the CCTV footage present on the wall. But wherever he looked, everything looked the same, black cars everywhere. On the highway, at the red light, on the mountain route. Everywhere.

Jack let out a small whimper, but thank god the women behind him didn't hear him. Jack was having a very bad feeling since the beginning of this undercover mission. Mac wasn't the type for prison because he knew what kind of folk was sitting in there. And he knew what kind of folk El Noche was. They all knew it.

_Mac, where are you?!_


	2. Chapter 2

Mac was jumping awake as he felt cold water on his face. With a shock of the sudden cold he sucked in a breath – thank god, no nitrogen this time.

Wearily his head lolled to the side, eyes still closed. He felt a few slaps on his cheeks. Not hard, but hard enough to actually bring him back to reality. A reality Mac didn't like.

He still felt the chair beneath him, so he hadn't been moved. A hasty glimpse showed him his guards, still standing. So he wasn't out this long. Actually he felt like was out like a few seconds, as his body was still screaming for oxygen. His breath rattled.

"Now talk?"

His torturer came in his line of sight. Mac's eyes and brain were still too dazed to actually process what was happening right in front of him, so he felt like seeing through the guy.

As he tried to form a word with his lips, he felt the iron grip once again. So his time for an answer was up now.

_No!_

With a last effort Mac drew in a large amount of air and then kept his breath. Again the man noticed and pulled strong at Mac's hair, but Mac knew it was coming. Although his brain was still a mess, his body was on survival mode. And with a brain still not able to fully process his surroundings, he didn't feel the pain as hard as it was. His body jerked a little bit in pain, but Mac managed not to breath. Only a little whimper made it out of his throat.

The man growled. His hands changed position and found their way right to Mac's jaw and stretched his head back even more. Mac kept his eyes clenched his eyes shut. It started to hurt like hell. And there was still his urge to breath.

_No!_

He started to shake his head violently. Blond strands fell into his face. He felt the grip hardening around his chin in order to keep his head in place, but Mac just didn't want to. He couldn't bring himself to breath once again. But his lungs were on fire and his neck hurt so much.

As his hands were still taped to the chair, he started to kick out with his legs. He felt his right foot connecting with something and then a scream of pain was in the air. But Mac was too focused not to breath and free himself from the mask he didn't even waste a thought for his little triumph. Instead he was jerked up even more, so his butt wasn't even connecting with the chair.

And this was the point when he breathed.

Immediately the effect came. The feeling of filling his lungs with a gas that felt like water in him. Mac's eyes flew open as he sucked in more and more of the nitrogen. Searching for a point to focus his eyes on, his visions became blurry again. As his eyes started to roll back, he felt the mask removed from his face. But the iron grip remained. His head started to loll a bit but was forced back up. His eye lids dropped half way down, short gasps. His heart was racing like crazy, Mac was close to hyperventilating.

A harsh dark voice made it's way to his ears. He didn't get the meaning and was about to answer to the not heard question as he recognized the man didn't talk to him. Instead he felt his feet being grabbed by strong hands and spread wide. Mac panicked as he heard the sound of tape being ripped of. With fast movements his feet were tied to the chair. The grip disappeared and Mac knew it was pointless. None or less he tried to kick out once again to find his feet unable to move. Tears started to fill his tired eyes.

_Jack, where are you?_

With the harsh grip to his chin he was unable to move now. He jerked his shoulders around but it didn't bring him anything good. Again he began to shake his head wildly.

_No!_

The mask was back on, Mac trashing around. The chair started to shake, but there was no giving in of his bindings. Mac panicked, felt his body hyperventilating, felt his eyes rolling back in their holes. His limbs began to tingle as a sign of his body going into shock.

This time he didn't even realized he faded out.

* * *

The next time he came around El Noche crouched in front of him. So after his little shock thing his man actually called for their boss. If Mac wouldn't feel like just coming back from the dead, he would laugh. So the gang was worried about their own methods.

"Feeling more talkative?"

Mac tried to focus on El Noche, his head was swimming. What was the question again he was forced to answer?

"Name?"

Ah! His name! All this stupid nitrogen-thing because of something lame as his name. Mac smirked. No way he was going to answer that!

El Noche seemed to understand. With a sigh he stood up. "You know what", he said with a broken English as he leaned over Mac. Mac slumped back in his chair. "I always thought you are clever, little American, you know, your way of breaking out was thought-out so well." He shook his head, "But you are the stupidest guy I've met. Getting yourself killed over a name."

With his finishing Mac's head was once again pulled back hard, the familiar pressure on his face. As he felt a little nitrogen entering his nose, he stopped his breathing immediately. The man made a tsk-sound. El Noche noticed as well.

"This is getting you nowhere, little American."

Oh, it was getting him somewhere. Even though Mac knew he wouldn't keep this up very long, it brought himself satisfaction. The satisfaction of bringing anger to El Noche.

The man holding Mac said something in Spanish, and El Noche leaned once again over Mac. Still holding his breath Mac glared at him. "So you did this a few times now?" A smile was forming in El Noche's face. He waved with his hand and the mask was pulled away. Surprise was written over Mac's face.

El Noche yelled a few words Mac didn't get and one of his men disappeared. Through his blurry vision Mac tried to follow him at first, but then used the short break to actually give his body a little rest. As he hadn't breathed in this much nitrogen, his lung was having almost full access to oxygen. With long deep breaths he drew in as much as possible, before the man came back. He was bringing something with him, an iron stick. Immediately Mac tensed and swallowed hard. A chill was running down his body.

"This will help you talking", El Noche commented as he pressed a button on the stick. Mac jolted as he heard the sound of electricity.

_Oh God no!_

Sweat was forming on his forehead as he saw the stick coming closer to his body. His breath sped up once again, his mind and body preparing for the incoming pain. Then his jaw was grabbed once again by the man behind him and stretched upwards. A surprised gasp made his way out of Mac's throat, then his world exploded.

The pain was immense!

Even though he had his eyes closed shut, he didn't see the normal black, everything was screaming white. He heard his own voice tearing the air as he tried to back away from the pain. Hell, it was so much pain! So much pain he couldn't even breath.

After what felt like hours but were merely seconds, the pain disappeared as fast as it had been coming and as Mac's scream ebbed out, his body still jerked with the last bit of the electrocution. Mac didn't have a single molecule of oxygen left in his lungs because of his scream, so he opened his mouth to draw a breath of air.

This was the moment the man was waiting for. Mac felt the mask pressed down hard on his face again as he breathed in deep. Now there was nitrogen everywhere.

Panic raised in him. He started to jerk as hard as never before, pulling so hard at his restraints that he actually thought his wrist were about to break. He felt the tearing of his skin as he tried to rip the tape by sheer force, tears leaking out of his eyes. Fanatically he breathed, again and again, but he couldn't fill his lungs with what they were crying for. More and more tears were streaming down his cheeks, he felt like dying. Strong hands kept his shoulders steady as he didn't stop trashing.

Then everything was over. The mask disappeared.

"Name?"

If Mac would have had the power to deny, he would have done so. But no answer was also an answer as the mask was shoved on his face again. With terrible pressure. Then the pain came and a scream howled through the house.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mac!"

Jack jerked awake. Surprised he blinked. He hadn't even recognized he had fallen asleep. But he was up for more than 24 hours now.

Jack brought his hands up to his face, they were shaking as he wiped off the sweat.

_Mac._

Jack looked around in the room, terror in his eyes. He had fallen asleep on the couch and of course his dreams drifted to his buddy. The buddy he lost. The buddy he wasn't able to protect. The buddy he hadn't been there for. The buddy he's now not there for.

Jack got this strange feeling, that Mac was fighting for his life right now and that wasn't making his feeling of failure and guilt any better. Desperate he jumped up, turning around a few times, trying to focus on something, almost feeling like the tracks would hide themselves in the sheer air around him.

"Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?"

Over and over he repeated the sentence. But there was no answer in the air around him.

His desperation turned itself slowly in raw anger. His hands ripping his hair he let out a growl as he reached for a chair. With a loud crash it connected with the wall, accompanied with a scream of pure agony.

Outside in front of the door Riley flinched, tears in her eyes.

* * *

Mac wished he would have stayed out a little longer.

As he was slowly coming into awareness of his surroundings, he felt a heat he had not felt this day. It wasn't the kind of heat he was exposed to when he passed out in the trunk he was transported in, it was the kind of heat that made his skin sting. As he slowly opened his eyes with a lot of blinks it suddenly hit him – it was the sun. He was exposed to the sun.

Just now he recognized he wasn't sitting in the chair anymore. Instead he was lying on his side, hard floor beneath him. He blinked as the sun was blinding him, but still he could make out his surroundings. He was at the terrace of El Noche's hideout.

As he stretched himself, he found his hands and feet tightly bound. A look down his legs he spotted the silver glance of duct tape. His hands were fixed behind his back. He struggled to free them, but there was no give in. With his fingers Mac tried to get a grip of the tape, but he didn't manage to do so. And not just because of the way his hands were bound but more as the result of constant lack of oxygen. His brain was practically out.

The pain.

Mac growled as he remembered the feeling of the cattle prod that had been pressed to his stomach. Although he didn't see his skin, Mac knew it was red like hell. It was stinging like hell. His breath sped up.

"Hello, little American."

His breath stopped.

El Noche crouched once again in front of him. Thankfully he was blocking the sun right now that had been shining in Mac's face. But if he would have had the choice, he would rather be blended by the sun again than having El Noche's grim smile right there.

"You know, little American", El Noche's broken English came, "I'm impressed by your strength, I must give you that. Everyone else would be dead."

Mac let out a little laugher. "So I should be happy?!" Mac was shocked by his own voice, broken and hoarse. But he tried to cover up.

Somehow it worked as El Noche slapped Mac's shoulder in aprovement. "I like you, little American", he said, "It's a shame that I have to kill you if you don't want to talk with me about a few things."

Mac swallowed hard and kept his mouth clenched shut. Unknowing his breaths got deeper and longer as in hope to get some kind of reserve of oxygen. El Noche was a pro in waterboarding and choking his victims, so Mac knew he was going to need the extra oxygen sooner or later. And like his little talk with the Boss was going he would need it sooner than he wished for.

"Who are you?"

Mac glared at him. Should he answer? Why not just saying his name? It wouldn't hurt at all actually. What would the Boss even do with his real name?!

"Little American", he answered.

No! Mac would never give in and say his name! He won't give El Noche the satisfaction and the glory he wanted. The glory of having broken him. He was a trained agent, he was trained not to give in to torture. He was trained to keep every information. He was trained to stay strong for the team.

_Jack!  
_

With a loud splash Mac was kicked into the pool. The cold water took him by surprise and drove out every bit of air of his lungs. So much for getting a little reserve! And with his hands and feet tightly bound with tape, Mac wasn't even able to swim or move himself towards the surface. He was actually drowning!

Panic was settling in, but then his feet connected to the floor of the pool. He pressed himself upwards. Surprised he found himself only in belly-bottom-deep water.

Coughing hard water came out of Mac's mouth. His whole body was shaking as he tried to free his lungs from the water. His wet hair was clinging to his forehead. He almost vomited. In short gasps he drew in some oxygen, but then he felt a hand in his neck and his head was speeding downwards towards the water again.

One of El Noche's men who had followed Mac into the pool was about to press him under the water again. The moment Mac's face connected to the surface, he panicked. Still coughing and spitting out water he wasn't even ready for another diving session. He struggled and trashed as the water filled his lungs because his body was still crying for breath.

Then he remembered his feet. With an unknown source of power he pressed upwards, supported by his legs. Surprisingly he actually was able to lift his head a bit. His neck was aching as he pulled every bit of strength together and got his head out of the water.

Air!

As fast as he could, Mac gasped for air. In short breaths he tried to fill his lungs again, still fighting the hand on his neck. But he knew he was on losing point as his body began to shake, both of cold and lack of energy.

He noticed a second shadow coming from the left and Mac braced himself for another hand on his neck, but then his feet were harshly gripped from behind. They lost their grounding and Mac splashed hard into the water. His face began to sting, but that was his smallest problem. Now he wasn't even able to move anymore!

With no arms to fight his body up again and tightly grabbed feet he was truly hopeless. He jerked and trashed in a furious way, slinging his body from left to right, trying to kick out, but he had no change. He tried to get his head up, but as his torturer noticed his efforts, he only pressed Mac down even more, one hand on his shoulders. Now Mac's body was practically headed downwards with his feet being the highest point.

After what felt like forever, Mac was pulled up. He just hang in his torturer's arms, dangling only a few inches above the water surface, drops blurring his own reflection on the water, some blond strands still remaining under. Mac was even to tired and far of to jerk anymore or coughing out the water in his lungs.

"Name."

The next time his face connected with the surface, he didn't even realized being pulled up again. The water closed around him like a welcoming darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Mac felt a strange pressure on his face as he came around this time. His vision was still swimming because of the lack of oxygen he was opposed to the last few hours. But somehow he new the pressure.

_A mask!_

The word exploded in his head. Simultaneously he stopped breathing. Nitrogen!

"Breath!"

_Never!_

A hit was perfectly placed in his stomach. Mac coughed hard as all his air was driven out of his lungs. And then he needed to breath.

He wasn't drowning. Surprised his eyes popped open, searching for a point to fixate and calming down his racing heart. He was in a dim room, lying on the floor. Now one of El Noche's lackeys bend over him. A hand connected with his cheek. Tears pickled in his eyes as his head was thrown to the side. But it helped his mind to find a little more ease.

As he kept rasping, more tears formed in his eyes. He was just to exhausted. His brain was exhausted. Even though he was unconscious for a long time, he was physically and mentally done. Unconsciousness and sleeping aren't the same thing for the body, even if you are knocked out both ways. Sleeping was for getting energy back, unconsciousness was for self-protection.

After a few seconds Mac noticed a hard pull on his body. With force he was turned to his back. Mac wanted to slow down the movement, but was surprised to find his hands tightly bound behind his back. He could feel the duct tape, way to strong tied around his wrists.

Now he was looking straight up to the guy seemingly busy with tying him up. Mac felt like kicking out, but his feet were bound as well. Again, duct tape.

His visions swam again, as the man bend over him. With one hand he gripped Mac's hair in a strong grip. Mac hissed in pain, as his neck muscles were suddenly stretched. His breath sped up, leaving his hot breath on the cold plastic of the mask – a mask, were oxygen was coming from. Mac was too exhausted to feel surprised by the fact. He was too busy concentrating his body to inhale and exhale.

The position of he man's hand was replaced under Mac's chin. A strong grip kept his head in place as he could feel his body starting to hyperventilate. The free hand was bringing up the duct tape. Using two fingers of the gripping hand, the man placed a long strip of duct tape with perfection over the mask.

"Not move."

Mac wasn't entirely sure, if the man meant him or the mask now literally glued to his face. As this was his biggest problem right now. He was lying on the floor, tears in his eyes, exhausted as hell, arms and legs strongly bound with tape and a scary mask glued to his face. It was just a matter of time until his life giving oxygen was replaced with life taking nitrogen. And his brain was in no position of thinking.

Weakly he started to struggle as the man placed another strip of duct tape over the mask. Mac could feel the pulling on his skin as the man pressed the strip down a second time to ensure a good hold. Now the tears leaked out. Mac didn't know what was happening – and it drove him crazy.

* * *

**A few hours earlier at Phoenix**

"Mr. John Dalton?"

"Who asks?"

"Officer Lance Roman, Santa Fe", a male voice on the phone said, "Am I talking to a Mr. John Dalton?"

Jack looked at his comrades suspiciously. Riley was about to start tipping into her laptop, but Patty stopped her with a little wave. With a second one she signalized Jack to keep talking. Jack switched his phone audible for them.

"It's actually `Jack` Dalton, Sir", he corrected the officer.

A laugh was heard. Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Dalton, but I'm not to good with Morse Code."

_Morse Code?_

Their eyes met. Why was this officer talking about Morse Code? Was Jack's name transmitted with it?

_Mac!_

Riley started tipping, Patty straightened up and Jack got really exited in fraction of a second.

"Morse Code? Where? When? Did you find Mac?"

"Ho ho ho, wait a second", Roman tried to slow Jack down.

"I want to talk to Mac!"

"I don't know this `Mac` of yours, Sir."

_Disappointment._

But this officer got Jack's name and phone number. And not many people in the world knew the number of THIS phone. So there was still hope. A hand found his way to Jack's forehead as sweat trickled on his head. A few deep breaths.

"But I got your name and number from a black car, that was waiting on a red light here in Santa Fe."

_What?!_

"A colleague and me were helping a shop owner who was assaulted. He gave us the CCTV footage to find the robber…" Riley's tipping speeded up. So did Jack's heart. "…and as we were watching it again and again to find some evidence, I recognized a strange flashing coming from the car right in front of the shop. At first I thought it was a malfunction, but then…"

Jack wasn't even listening anymore. Mac! They finally found Mac! His boy! Tears of joy started to form in his eyes. On the edge of his hearings he could still notice the officer talking, but he didn't pay attention to the spoken words. Mac!

As he looked around in the room, searching for a point as relief washed over him, his gaze met Riley's. She as well had tears in her eyes.

With a hard press on `Enter` a video popped up on the big wall screen. It was the CCTV footage, Officer Roman was talking about. It showed the outside of a grocery shop, the side walk and some part of the road. And there it was!

The little flickering of a lamp that brought everyone such a great joy.

* * *

Mac on the other hand was way to far away from joy. And the tears tickling on his cheeks weren't of joy either. A panic rose up inside him as he weakly struggled in his bondings.

The man had left his position on Mac's side a few seconds ago. He had stepped out of the door giving Mac a small amount of time with himself and his thoughts. And this was giving Mac the chance to look around him. He was in a basement room he guessed, everything concrete, everything cold, the heavy metal door now open.

Out of nowhere and even though he knew it was pointless his struggling got stronger.

_Get out!_

With a power he didn't knew where it was coming from, he actually got himself on his stomach. Unfortunately the mask didn't move an inch. Like a worm he started to move ahead towards the open door. His body was screaming, being exposed to way too less oxygen over the past few hours, but he needed to get out. A fire started to burn in his breast, visible in his teary and red eyes. The way out – so close!

The man came back. Mac's movement came to a sudden halt. Behind the man a dragging sound. Heavy. Metallic.

_Nitrogen!_

A wave of panic captured his heart. Fanatical he threw his head, hyperventilating. No! No! No!

The man left the huge gas bottle at the door and stepped closer to Mac. Mac was pulled on his orange prison top and harshly thrown on his back again. But Mac didn't feel any pain. His head was so light, his whole body was tickling. And then there was only dark.

Noise from above brought Mac back to consciousness. He felt groggy as he tried to move, only still finding himself bound. But now he was lying on his side. The familiar pressure was also on his face as he slowly breathed in – nitrogen!

Instinctively Mac hold his breath. He started to rub the taped mask over the concrete floor to get it of – why wasn't he dead?!

Mac stopped.

He was definitely out for a few minutes, maybe longer. He knew the damage of nitrogen only breathed in for like 3 seconds, so if he was breathing in for like 3 minutes straight, he should surely be dead! So why was he still around?

Carefully he took a small breath. No drowning. Instead he felt oxygen filling his lungs. Why? Mac was confused. The man, the gas bottle, it was there! It was nitrogen! He was sure of it – was he? Did he look at the label? Was it really nitrogen?

Mac's eyes searched around the room. Moving his head hurt his muscles. His hair was sweaty. So he had been knocked out longer than he thought.

There it was!

Mac's breath stuck in his airways.

_`Nitrogen`_

So it really was Nitrogen! And he could even see the long tube from the gas bottle to his mask. His eyes grew wide. Why wasn't he dead?

The pressure gauge was on Zero.

So there was no Nitrogen leaking out. And this is why he was still alive. Mac wasn't sure if he should let the relief wash over him or if he should cry out of panic being strapped to a deadly gas bottle.

The ruckus from the upper floors distracted him from his emotional chaos. Was there a gun?

_Jack?_

Did Jack find him? Did someone got his signal from the trunk? Did someone call Jack? Was Jack on the way to get him out? Out of this misery?

Mac's head fell back as he closed his eyes. Now was the time to let relief wash over him. He couldn't be sure it was Jack up there, maybe it was a struggle between the lackeys. But no, it was Jack! It had to be Jack!

Shouting got louder as he heard footsteps rushing down the stairs. The door got opened –

_The man from before._

Mac's blood froze instantly.

_Jack? Where are you?_

Blood was dripping from the man's forehead as he moved himself through the room, heavy gasping. His hands gripped the screw cap of the bottle –

No breathing!

Mac cramped on the floor as he started to drown again. No, not again!

He threw his head back, crashing the mask on the floor again and again, desperate for air. His eyes flew open, everything was swimming. Air! He needed air! So badly!

More and more nitrogen filled his lungs. Mac felt his whole body going limp. His eyelids began to close as his body cramped one last time in the need of oxygen.

Black.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was shooting his way through El Noche's men. A machine gun was no enemy for him and his pistol, but the men couldn't have known this. They couldn't have known that you shouldn't get in the way of Jack Dalton. Especially when he's on the run to save his Mac!

In the living room he found the armchair. Cut duct tape was still stuck on it. Is this where – Mac!

Fanatically he turned around, searching for his blonde boy. A lackey made the mistake to show up right at that moment and ended his life with a bullet of Jack's pistol. Desperation filled his heart as Jack kept on turning and turning. Where is he?

Then he recognized the man rushing down the stairs. Without thinking Jack followed. A glimpse of hope, not more, but maybe Mac was down there. His speed almost made him fall down the concrete stairs. Jack felt the air getting colder. It was summer in Mexico, so he felt like going in a refrigerator. It was chilly. Jack wasn't entirely sure it was because of the temperatur difference or a scary premonition.

The man was still a little ahead as Jack entered the basement hallway. The man disappeared in a room. Jack closed up.

_Mac!_

His boy on the floor. Taped limbs. Teary and sweaty. And life fading from him!

Jack was so flooded with too many stimuli at once he acted like in trance. His weapon came up, the man came down on the concrete floor, already a red lake starting to form. And even though Jack sprinted as his life depends on it, he felt like walking in time laps.

Endlessly slowly he came down next to his boy. Mac wasn't even struggling anymore. Only a little twitching visible. Sounding like he was suffocating.

Jack gripped the mask and ripped it from Mac's face. He didn't know why, but he had the idea, that this was draining the life out of his boy. But still, Mac was suffocating. Mac's lids were down half way, tears leaking out and Jack could see to his shock, that Mac's eyes where slowly rolling back.

_No no no no no!_

Jack rolled Mac on his back, instinctively starting rebreathing. Mac was unconscious, his breast only moving when Jack blowing air inside his lungs. Mac wasn't breathing on his own!

_No no no no no!_

After 4 rows Jack felt for a pulse. Mac's heart was racing like hell – but it was there. But he still wasn't breathing on his own. Jack kept going, tears in his eyes. He waited so long for his boy, was so desperate to find him. Now that he had him back he was about to lose him again?! Right in his arms?!

_No no no no no!_

Jack could still hear the battle from the upper floors, heard the SWAT team arresting El Noche. But he was not happy. He was crying as he gave Mac's lung blow after blow.

_No no no no no!_

After what felt like an eternity, Mac made a small breath by himself. Way to small, but still! Relief filled Jack's heart, a joy he never felt before. Clumsy he fell back on his butt, no force left in his body he sacked down. Mac was breathing! With a hand he rubbed over his face, cleaning it from the sweat and tears. His fingers fisted his lips as Jack let the tears flow.

Slowly Jack reached out for his boy. "Mac?", he whispered as he slapped Mac carefully on the cheek a few times. But Mac was dead out, just to exhausted to open up his eyes for his life saviour.

* * *

_Peep – Peep – Peep _

The sound of medical instruments brought Mac to the living world. He felt like he had been sleeping for years, his body numb, eyes heavy. He felt light, a sedative maybe. He swallowed hard. No salvia to wet his dry throat. It hurt. He groaned.

The left side of his body was way to heavy. He couldn't even move his arm. Curiosity was winning over the deadly fatigue and Mac opened up his eyes.

Jack was sleeping on his left, head on Mac's hip, hand clamping around Mac's left.

_So I am home._

He let himself fall on the pillow again. It was so fluffy.


End file.
